Dear friends, it is Tuesday as I write. The air has cooled down and I couldn’t be happier. I’m grateful I don’t live in the deep winter states; I’d never survive all the snow and ice and harsh temperatures, but here in my little woods, winters are mild and summers are extreme, so I embrace whatever cold we get with open arms.
Over the weekend, I finally mustered up the strength to dismantle Christmas and was happy I had put out less than usual. It seemed to come down with little effort.
January’s blank canvas always excites me. This year, I decided to keep a touch of winter in my décor, using winter berries, greens, pine cones, and branches here and there. I hope it isn't too Christmasy.
It’s been said that winter is the time for enjoying the simple comforts of home. I say “Amen” to that.
Today, as I cared for my darling Arabella, we played hard and laughed hard. At one point, I studied her sweet image from a distance and felt my heart fill up with an array of emotions not easily defined. And it was in that moment—that fleeting moment—that I was reminded how blessed I am to have her near, to kiss her cheeks, to hear her chuckle, to feel her breath on my neck as she lays on my shoulder while I sing her to sleep. I’m learning more than ever to live in the moment, for this moment is all we have.
As I type these words, darkness has fallen. I can hear the little clock on my desk, ticking away the minutes, the tumble of clothes drying in the laundry room, the gentle sounds of my granddaughter as her mother rocks her to sleep. Here in my home, surrounded by the sounds of the night, I feel as if I’m hearing Father Time, marching steadily ahead into the new year, that blank canvas yet to be written upon. There will be obstacles that challenge us and blessings that humble us. We’ll be weak. We’ll be strong. Nothing stays the same, only the faithfulness of God.